The Shop Around the Corner
by The Girl Who Flys
Summary: Belle French and Robert Gold hate each other. She owns the children's bookstore started by her mother. He's vice president of Golden Books-the company that's threatening to put her out of business. But what neither of them know is that they're actually each other's anonymous online pen pals.
1. Chapter 1

Belle loved mornings like this. Summer had long ago given way to fall. There was that chill in the air and children were back in school for another year. The trees in Central Park and around the city would change colors and she could start to wear her favorite coat and scarf again.

Belle casually browsed through her closet for something to wear this beautiful fall morning while she had her boyfriend Archie on speakerphone. He always had a rant every morning.

"This entire company had to _ban _access to Facebook on every single one of their employee's computers," Archie said. "They hadn't done any work in six weeks because they were too busy playing Farmville!"

"That's so sad," Belle said automatically. It was her normal response for Archie's rants that she really had no opinion on. She slipped on her favorite black sweater before sitting down on her bed and beginning to pull on a pair of leggings.

"Do you know what this is?"

"No."

"What we're seeing here?"

"No."

"It's the _end _of Western Civilization as we know it!" Archie said melodramatically. "Technology," he scoffed. "Name me one thing-_one_ that we've gained from technology."

"Electricity," Belle answered automatically. "The neat little box you're using to talk to me right now."

"That's _two,_" Archie allowed. "You think that Mac of yours is your friend, but it's not," he said warningly.

"I'll keep that in mind," Belle promised. She slipped on her plaid skirt. "Are we still doing dinner tonight?"

"Sushi," Archie replied. "I'll talk to you later, Belle," he promised.

Belle smiled. "Bye, Archie!" and she ended the call. She felt like with the call ending, Archie had left her tiny New York apartment. Squealing she ran over to her Mac and turned it on. Belle felt like she was waiting for ages for her laptop to finally come to life even though it truly wasn't long at all. It never was.

Finally the machine came to life and she hurriedly clicked on the browser icon and the Google homepage came up. Belle felt that same combination of exhilaration and guilt as she typed in the user name ShopGirl. But now several months had gone by and she was feeling less guilty and more thrilled every time she typed in the fake e-mail address with the fake name.

Belle gave out a rather loud squeal when she saw that little bold number one in her inbox. She had mail; another enticing e-mail from someone who was just as big a mystery to her as she was to them.

The subject line read _Brinkley_. The mystery writer had mentioned a Brinkley in his last e-mail and she had understandably been intrigued and had inquired about Brinkley. They did tend to stay away from personal questions, but if it wasn't too personal, then he would have no qualms about answering her.

She clicked on the e-mail to read it fully.

_Brinkley is my dog, _it read. _He loves the streets of New York as much as I do. Although he prefers to eat pieces of pizza and bagel from the sidewalk and I much prefer to buy them. Brinkley loves being the center of attention and could have gone on to Hollywood and become a big star of the silver screen, but he chose to stay with me and sleep nearly eighteen hours a day on an oversized pillow instead._

Belle laughed aloud at that. She knew a few friends of her with dogs that were just as lazy.

_Don't you love New York in the fall?_ the e-mail continued. _I would send you a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address. On the other hand, this not knowing has its charms._

Belle grinned and clicked the button marked 'Reply' and began to type out her response. The words came to her with ease and when she was happy with what she wanted to say she hit Send.

* * *

Robert Gold only half listened to the woman ranting on the other end of the phone. He was fond of his girlfriend, most of the time, but he really couldn't deal with her bitterness at the world in general without a cup of coffee.

He sipped at it, letting the caffeine take effect as he occasionally held the phone away from his ear whenever Regina's screeching became too much for his ears.

"You're coming to that dinner with me tonight, right?" Regina asked.

"It's black tie!" Robert complained.

"So? Just where whatever you're wearing right now. You practically dress black tie every day," Regina pointed out. While he did dress impeccably well every day and took great care in his appearance, it was a far cry from black tie. That meant pulling out his tux, and he didn't much fancy doing that.

"I'd have to call up the nanny and I can't do that at last minute," Robert reminded her. He checked his watch. "You have to hang up now, you're late."

"I know, I know, I'm walking in the building now. We'll talk later." And finally Regina hung up. Sighing, Robert rubbed his face. He needed that coffee now.

The pitter patter of little feet had him look up. Bae was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, still in his pajamas, hair sticking up at all angles, yawning widely. He may be only four, but Bae loved the mornings just as much as a teenager, which wasn't much at all.

Robert smiled at his son. "Hey. Why aren't you dressed? I put out some clothes for you last night."

"Hungry," Bae whined, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Robert stifled a laugh.

"Clothes first," he said. "_Then _breakfast."

Bae nodded tiredly and shuffled back to his room. Once he was gone, Robert went to his laptop on the kitchen counter and clicked on the browser icon.

Perhaps it was foolish of him to be checking his e-mail so early in the morning. There was no way that the mysterious woman behind the username ShopGirl would have already replied to him; especially after that line about the bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils. He had been proud of himself when he thought of it and thought it sounded a little poetic. No doubt she thought it foolish and fanciful.

Although foolish and fanciful were better than creepy. He hoped that she didn't think of him as creepy.

What was he getting worried for, anyway? He didn't know the woman in real life and it wasn't like he was about to bump into her on the street. Although at times, he couldn't help but wonder if he _had. _They both lived in Manhattan (or at least, _he _did and she claimed to). She could be someone he passed by on the street, a woman in the Starbucks he always got his morning coffee from, or one of the residents of the building he lived in.

His heart soared when he saw that he had one new e-mail from ShopGirl. She _had _replied. He hadn't royally screwed things up with her.

Once again, Robert had to remind himself that he had never met this woman so there _was _nothing to royally screw up.

The subject line read _Dear Friend. _He clicked on the e-mail and began to devour the words on the page.

_I like to start my notes from you as if we're already in the middle of a conversation. I pretend that we're the oldest and dearest friends, as opposed to what we actually are, people who don't know each other's names, and met in a forum where we both claimed we'd never been before. "What will he say today?" I wonder. I turn on my computer, I wait patiently as it boots up. I go online, and my breath catches in my chest when I see that bold number next to the word Inbox. I hear nothing, not even a sound on the streets of New York, just the beat of my own heart. I have mail. From you._

After dropping off Bae at his preschool and Robert walked his regular route to work and he found that he heard nothing at all on the busy streets of New York. His head was too filled with thoughts of the mysterious ShopGirl to notice the honking cars or the soft _tap, tap, tap _of his cane against the sidewalk.

Robert Gold was a serious man and rarely wasted his time daydreaming, but today, as he made his way to the construction zone that was the next Golden Books superstore, his head was high above the city streets and up in the clouds.

The place was still bare and dusty with tarps hanging everywhere, but it was beginning to take shape and look like the store they had been planning for well over a year now. To Robert Gold, it was just another store in his and his father Angus' company. Nothing was much different about this store compared to the others.

His right hand man and best friend Jefferson met him as he came in. Whereas Robert dressed to impress, Jefferson dressed to attract attention. Never had a pair of friends differed so much, but got along so well.

"Morning, Gold," he greeted.

Robert nodded at him and they began to walk around the construction zone, seeing how things were coming along. "So what's going wrong today?" Robert wondered aloud.

"Glad you asked, because I've got plenty of bad news and I just _love _delivering it to your sunny personality this early in the morning. Here's the rundown so far: the electrical contractor called. His truck hit a deer last night so he's not going to be in until tomorrow. And upstairs shelves are late because the pine we ordered has beetles."

Robert nodded. "Good, very good," he said distractedly.

Jefferson gave him a look. "And we got a fifty thousand dollar ticket for construction workers peeing off the roof." Having to spend money for people doing stupid things like that would usually set Robert off into a rampage. Jefferson had said it in an attempt to set him off.

However, Robert surprised him by nodding and muttering "Great, great." He turned to give Jefferson his full attention. "Has the electrician come in today yet?"

"I _just _told you that," Jefferson reminded him. Robert was confused.

"You did?"

"I _knew _you weren't listening to me."

Robert laughed and continued walking through the construction. "I wasn't," he admitted. "I wasn't listening. I hear _nothing. _Nothing. Not a sound on the city streets just the…beat of my own heart? I think that's how it goes. Something like that." He lifted up the tarp over one of the bookshelves to inspect them and Jefferson grimaced.

"You and Regina got engaged," he said. "Didn't you?"

Robert looked horrified by the idea. "Engaged?!" he sputtered.

"You can tell me. I can handle it…maybe."

"Engaged?!" Robert repeated. "No! Are you mad, man?!"

Jefferson shrugged, but he looked relieved that his worst nightmare hadn't come true. "You seem happy. I hardly ever see you happy. Besides, I thought you liked Regina."

"I do," Robert said automatically. "I do. I like Regina. Regina is amazing. Regina can make coffee nervous." That earned a laugh from Jefferson. "We should begin introducing the store to the neighborhood," Gold said, moving on from conversations of marriage to Regina. "Let them know that we'll be opening our doors to the public."

"So soon?" Jefferson questioned. "This is the Upper West Side. We might as well tell them we're opening up a crackhouse. The public will hate us. They'll be lining up to picket the 'big bad chain store' that's out to destroy everything they hold most near and dear."

"So, people hate us for a short while, so what? I have a long line of people that have grievances with me and you don't see me crying about it." He turned to Jefferson. "You know how we'll get the people to love us? We'll seduce them with our square footage, our armchairs, and our grand assortment of coffees and teas."

Jefferson rolled his eyes. "Nobody drinks tea," he complained.

"_I _drink tea," Robert reminded him.

"That's because it's the signature drink of your people."

Robert gave him a look. "That is a _stereotype_."

Jefferson snorted. "Not for you, it isn't."

"Tea drinking is rising in popularity amongst Americans," Robert reminded him. "It'll sell."

"Whatever you say."

Robert sighed impatiently. "We need to put up a sign," he decided. "'Coming Soon: A Golden Books Super Store.'"

Jefferson nodded. "'And the End of Civilization As You Know It.'"

"That's the spirit."

Jefferson nodded again and gave him a sly smile. "So…who is she?" he prodded. "The woman who has you in such a good mood this morning," he explained further when Gold gave him a questioning look. "You are normally about as friendly as a hungry grizzly bear in the morning and now you're smiling and saying sappy poetic things and you've got a spring in your step."

"No, pretty sure that's just the limp," Robert said dryly.

"You know what I meant!" Jefferson said defensively. "I haven't seen you this happy since-" He stopped dead in the middle of the sentence and cleared his throat awkwardly. "In a long time," he backpedaled. "I haven't seen you this happy in a long time."

Robert saw easily through the ruse. Jefferson hadn't seen him this happy since before his ex-wife died. He had won full custody of Bae when he was barely even a year old and two months later, Milah died in a boating accident. He had only been dating Regina for six months now-since just after Bae's fourth birthday-and she was the first woman he dated after several years of being alone. Helping your father run a company and taking care of a toddler tended to take up a lot of time.

"Who is she?" Jefferson repeated. "I'm just going to keep bothering you until I get an answer."

Robert finally turned to him, cane in front of him and both hands placed firmly on it. He took a deep breath, sighed, and admitted "I don't know."

Jefferson raised an eyebrow. "You don't?"

"Without going into too many details, I've been corresponding with a lovely woman over e-mail. I don't know her name and I don't know what she looks like or where she works, et cetera. All I know is that she likes books and she apparently is a fellow resident of Manhattan."

"So some woman who you've never even met is why you're so happy?" Jefferson asked. Robert frowned.

"Forget I said anything," he growled.

"No, no, I think it's great!" Jefferson said sincerely. "If she makes you happy, then that makes me happy."

Robert scoffed. "You're a sap."

"Says the man who hears nothing but the beat of his own heart."

* * *

Belle smiled and hummed to herself happily. Her morning walk had taken a little bit longer than it normally did, but it had been necessary. In between buying a small bouquet of flowers and a small pumpkin, she had the urge to buy school supplies.

Sadly, the store did not stock bouquets of freshly sharpened pencils, so she settled for a few rolls of scotch tape.

"Good morning, Ashley," she said cheerily. Ashley Boyd was her part time student, part time employee and was here to open most mornings, depending on her class schedule. Although scatterbrained at times, she was smart and one of her hardest workers.

"Morning, Belle," Ashley yawned. Belle handed off the pumpkin to her while she went to lift up the gate.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" Belle gushed. "Isn't it just the most beautiful, beautiful day?

It was a cold windy, fall day in New York and a man who reeked of pee had entered the subway car Ashley had been in that morning. "Beautiful" was not the first word she would have used to describe it.

"Yeah, sure…I guess," Ashley said, unsure. As if the universe was trying to back her up, a car and a taxi nearly got into an accident in the road right behind them. Belle, however, was oblivious.

"Don't you just _love _New York in the fall?" she asked. Not waiting for an answer, Belle entered the shop, Ashley following closely behind. Belle was already rather odd by nature, but this was really off the charts.

In the office, Belle set her purse down and pulled out a roll of tape. She inhaled it deeply and then held it out to Ashley. "You can't beat that," she said in all seriousness.

"What is going on with you?" Ashley said, gently pushing away the offered tape.

"Nothing!" Belle insisted. She began to unbutton her coat. "Nothing."

But Ashley could recognize that sparkle in her eyes anywhere. "You're in _love,_" Ashley realized. There was no denying it. Belle was twitterpated. Smitten. Head over heels. She had it _bad._

"In love? No," Belle denied. Then she got a look of realization on her face. "Oh, that's right! I'm in love with Archie." She removed her coat and scarf and threw them on the coat rack. "Do you think you could get our Christmas mailers out this week?"

Oh, damn. Ashley had nearly forgotten about those. "By this Monday, I promise," she assured Belle. "It's just, I have this paper due Friday-" Ashley was used to Belle being distracted, but she had never run into the next room while Ashley was in midsentence before. "What is going on?" she demanded.

"Nothing!" Belle sang. "Nothing at all."

Ashley grabbed the pile of books that needed to be shelved from the office and followed Belle to the front counter. "You know what? I'm just going to stand here until you tell me." She put the books down on the counter and crossed her arms over her chest, giving Belle a look.

Belle rolled her eyes and smiled, relenting. "Alright," she said. "Is it infidelity if you're involved with someone over e-mail?"

"Well, have you had sex?" Ashley asked.

"What? No! Of course not! I don't even know him!"

"No, I mean _cybersex,_" Ashley clarified.

"No," Belle said slowly.

"Well, don't do it. I tried it once and the minute you do, they lose all respect for you."

"It's nothing like that," Belle assured her. "We just e-mail. It's really nothing. I'm really thinking about stopping, anyway because it's getting…" she searched for the word.

"Out of hand?" Ashley supplied.

Belle shook her head. "Confusing. But at the same time it's not because like I said: it's nothing."

Ashley began to shelve the books. "Where'd you meet him?" she asked.

Belle blushed. "It's…um…long story. I'm a little fuzzy on the details." Ashley gave her that disbelieving look again. "Okay. On my birthday I went into this thirty and over book discussion forum, sort of as a little joke. And I liked some of his posts, he liked some of mine, and the two of us started chatting."

"About what?" Ashley wanted to know.

"Books, music, how much we both love New York. Harmless, harmless, meaningless…" Belle laughed. "Bouquets of sharpened pencils," she said wistfully.

Ashley quirked an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" she asked, not sure if she was hearing right.

"Forget it," Belle said. "We don't talk about anything personal. It's all in the rules we made up for ourselves. I don't know his name or what he does or where he lives exactly so it will be rather easy for me to stop seeing him because…I'm not." Ashley leaned back against the counter. It all seemed terribly romantic. Something right out of a book. Or a movie.

"He could be the next person to walk into the store!" Ashley realized.

"I know!" Belle gushed excitedly.

"He could be-" The bell above the door rang and Sean Herman, another one of her longtime employees came in. Ashley's face fell.

"It's _not _Sean," Belle assured her in a whisper when Sean went back into the office. Not only did Ashley really like Sean, but she knew that Sean had a soft spot for Ashley as well. It was just taking the two of them forever to realize it.

"It could be," Ashley reminded her.

"Sean?" Belle called out. "Have you ever been on a forum?"

"Once," he called back. "Reading some of the posts made my IQ drop. I avoid them now."

Belle turned back to Ashley with a triumphant smile. "You see? It's _not _Sean."

The bell over the door rang again and Granny Lucas bustled into the shop. She had been with the store since Belle's mother owned it. Many of their frequent patrons knew her as well and they all called her Granny, too. The Shop Around the Corner just wouldn't be the same if Granny wasn't here.

"What are you girls talking about?" Granny asked curiously.

"Cybersex," Ashley deadpanned, making Sean-who had just come back out of the office-choke on his coffee.

"I tried having cybersex once," Granny freely admitted, making a recovering Sean choke again. "But my internet kept crashing."

Belle rolled her eyes. "Why do I work with you people?" she wondered aloud. Banishing thoughts of mysterious nameless and faceless strangers and cybersex from her mind, Belle flipped the sign on the door from Closed to Open and let her first few customers in the front door.

Although, like every day, she couldn't help but wonder what NY152 would say next.

* * *

**Changes had to be made and here is an explanation.**

**1. I could not imagine someone like Gaston being Belle's boyfriend in this-especially when you look at the movie-so Archie takes up the role!**

**2. Gold's age has been bumped down ten years so he's only in his forties. This is because a) I cannot imagine a fifty year old man wandering into a forum and b) his father will be in this story and I didn't want him to be ancient.**

**3. Regina and Cora are _not _related in this story.**

**4. Things have changed in the fourteen or so years since You've Got Mail first came out so the story will be updated to fit with modern times.**

**Thanks for reading, don't forget to review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I meant to get this out a lot sooner, I just didn't have the time. I'll try and get the next chapter out sooner. In the mean time, enjoy this installment.**

* * *

Angus Ulysses Gold came from humble roots but he was by no means a humble man. After building his book business from the ground up and rapidly climbing the corporate ladder, he felt like no less than a king. As a result, his office had one of the best views of all of Manhattan so he might look down on those her perceived as his subjects. There were very few who would think they were his equal and there was only one who actually measured up to this claim: his son.

Robert Gold was the Vice President of Golden Books. In a few more years, when Angus finally retired and settled down, Robert would be taking over completely. Even now, Robert did most of the work, anyway, but it was still Angus who made the largest and most important of decisions.

His secretary had set down the tea set on his desk barely a minute before his son and his obnoxiously dressed business partner strolled in. With the newest Golden Books Superstore under construction and set to open within the next two months, meetings like this occurred almost daily.

"Construction is going well," Robert told his father as he poured himself a cup of tea. "We should open on time but Jefferson and I are both a little concerned about the neighborhood response." He caught a glimpse of the new sofa in his father's office. "That's an interesting fabric on the sofa. What is it? Does it have a name?"

Angus snorted. "I do believe it's name is _money._"

Robert nodded in understanding. "Cora picked it out," he explained to Jefferson.

"I'm getting married again," Angus announced suddenly. It wasn't a shock to Robert. In addition to his own mother, he had had a plethora of stepmothers growing up. His father getting married again was like waiting for the leaves to change color in the fall. It always happened, it was just a question of _when_.

"Congratulations," Robert said.

"Thank you."

"Why?" Robert asked bluntly.

Angus shrugged. "Who knows?"

"Love?"

"It's possible." He took a long sip of his tea. "Truthfully, Alexandra just turned seven. It'd be nice if she knew her parents were married."

Jefferson, who was looking at his e-mail on his phone, cleared his throat. "I have a sad announcement to make, gentlemen," he said somberly. "City Books on 23rd Street…it's going under…" Jefferson kept up the somber act for only a moment longer before grinning widely. Angus threw his head back and laughed triumphantly while Robert just gave a small smile and nod of approval. They had been following the demise of this store for some time now.

"Another independent bites the dust," Angus remarked.

"We're going to buy out their entire inventory of architecture and New York history for the new store," Gold explained.

Angus sighed exasperatedly. The one thing that remained from his humble roots is that he hated to spend too much money. "How much is it, son?" he asked. "How much are you paying?"

"Not as much as we'd be paying if we got it straight from the publisher," Robert assured his father. "They're going out of business and they're desperate to sell. We're also planning on having a section dedicated just to writers who have lived on the West Side."

Angus nodded approvingly. "Perfect. Keep those West Side liberal _nuts_, pseudo-intellectuals out of our hair. What do we call that group, anyway?"

"I do believe that they're called readers nowadays," Jefferson quipped.

Angus pointed a finger at Jefferson. "Don't you go and romanticize them now. It won't keep them from jumping down your throat," he warned. "What's the competition?" he asked, turning back to his son.

"One mystery store, _Sleuth, _on 78th and Amsterdam, and a children's bookstore…_Shop Around the Corner? _It's been there forever."

Angus lit up at the mention of that store. "Cecilia's store!" he gasped.

Robert gave him a questioning look. "Who?"

"Cecilia French!" Angus explained further. "Lovely woman. I think we might have had a date once…or maybe we just exchanged letters."

Robert gave him an amused look. "You wrote her _letters_?"

Angus snorted. "_Post, _it was called the post back then. Americans have a different word for it."

"Mail," Jefferson supplied.

Angus nodded. "That's right." He sighed as the memories overtook him. "Cecilia had beautiful penmanship. She was too young for me but she was…enchanting. Her daughter owns it now."

Jefferson smirked. "Well, I guess that's too bad for her."

Yes, it was. At least Cecilia was long dead and wouldn't see the beloved store she had begun inevitably go under. It was only a matter of time. This time next year, _The Shop Around the Corner _would be nothing but a New York memory.

* * *

Belle would always check both her business and personal e-mail around lunch time. Not all of the e-mails between herself and her secret pen pal were novel length. Sometimes they'd just write quick little notes to one another; random thoughts they felt like sharing.

_My father is getting married again, _he wrote. Belle's eyebrows did rise a little bit at the word _again_ but she had heard of stranger things. _For eight years he's been living with a woman named Cora who studied decorating at Caesar's Palace._

_ Every night a truck pulls up to my neighborhood bagel place and pumps about a ton of flour into underground tanks. And then the air is filled with white dust that never seems to land. Why is that?_

_ It always seems to settle on my clothes and in Brinkley's fur. I will no doubt find a great accumulation of it on his pillow the next morning. It is a pain, but one I can manage to live with._

* * *

Robert took another swig out of the beer bottle. He rarely drank around his son and when he did, he limited it to one drink. He was going to save it for when Jefferson came over with the paperwork (because Jefferson always found an excuse to stay over for "just a few minutes" and catch a few sports highlights on Robert's rather large television).

The doorbell rang and Robert gratefully put the book and beer down to go answer it. Bae nearly knocked him over in his eagerness to get to the door. He had worked out that Jefferson always had a small present in his oversized coat pockets.

"Hold on," Robert implored. "I can't move as fast as you can, son." He checked the peephole and then opened the door to allow Jefferson access. His friend was prepared for Bae and knelt down to brace himself for the attack. Robert was not the most social of creatures but his son was a hugger. And while Jefferson was a little bit of a commitment phobic, he had a soft spot for children and Robert knew he secretly wanted them one day.

"Hey, there, kiddo," Jefferson laughed. "What'd you do in preschool today?"

"I drew a picture," Bae told him.

"Really! Can I see this picture?" Jefferson asked like he was really interested-and he probably was.

"Where's my present?" Bae asked bluntly.

"Bae! Manners!" Robert reprimanded. Jefferson just laughed and waved him off.

"It's alright, Bobby," he assured him. He reached into his deep pockets and pulled out a toy car. "Another to add to your collection."

Bae's eyes were locked on to the car, but he still managed to say thank you before running off to his room to play with his car. Jefferson drummed his fingers on the folder he was holding before heading toward the kitchen.

"Here's the dreaded paperwork," Jefferson announced, dropping the folder onto the table. "And now I'm going to get my beer." His eyes glanced down to the book on the counter as he passed, then he did a double take, then he turned around completely to pick up the book and carefully look at the title. "Is this what I think it is?" Jefferson asked.

"Yes," Robert growled, taking the book a bit forcefully from Jefferson's grasp.

"Okay, better question: why the _hell _are you reading _Pride and Prejudice,_" Jefferson demanded.

"Bae is still up!" Gold hissed. He kept a very strict vocabulary around his son, something Jefferson respected but also found tedious and would forget about sometimes.

"The question still stands: why are you reading _Pride and Prejudice_?" Jefferson repeated. Robert sighed and considered his answer. He had come up with a couple of excuses in case he was caught with this book. He could say he lost a bet but there was one big problem with that: Jefferson was his only friend, so there really was nobody else to bet against. Besides, Robert did not make wagers unless he knew that he would win.

His less believable excuse was to say that he was hit on the head and he knew that one wouldn't fly.

Robert thought back to the e-mail he had received just yesterday afternoon.

_I'm constantly reading stories and books. I try to make reading lists, but it takes longer to make them than it takes to read the actual book so I just skip straight to the reading. I love it when I read something from a story and then real life plays it out for me._

_ I once read a story about a butterfly in the subway and today, I saw one! It got on at 42__nd__ and off at 59__th__, where, I assume, it was going to Bloomingdales to buy a hat._

_ Confession I have read and reread _Pride and Prejudice _over two hundred times! I get lost in the language. Words like "thither" and "felicity." And no matter how many times I've read it, I'm always in agony over whether or not Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy are really going to get together! Read it! I know you'll love it._

He had only managed fifty pages so far.

"It's part of the company's classic selections," Robert said-and that was actually the truth.

Jefferson shook his head sadly. "You, my friend, are _way _too dedicated to your job."

* * *

_The purpose of places like Starbucks is for people with no decision making abilities whatsoever to make six decisions all at once just to buy a single cup of coffee. Short. Tall. Light. Dark. Caf. Decaf. Low fat. Non fat. Et cetera. _

_ So people who don't know what the hell they're doing or who the hell they are can for only a few measly dollars get not just a cup of coffee but an absolutely defining sense of self. Tall. Decaf. Cappuccino._

With these words still floating around in her head from this morning's e-mail, Belle was thinking about her morning cup of coffee in an entirely new light. In a way she never would have thought of before.

Ashley was practically bouncing with joy when Belle came to unlock the shop that morning.

"You're in a very good mood this morning," Belle commented as she unlocked the gate. Ashley nodded vigorously.

"You'll never _guess _what happened," Ashley gushed. "So I was working on my paper last night and then my cell phone started ringing and I almost let it go to voicemail but I saw that it was _Sean _calling so of _course _I picked up and then he _asked me out._"

Belle smiled happily for her friend. "I knew it was only a matter of time. What're you thinking of wearing?" she asked as she unlocked the door to the shop.

"I don't have a clue!" Ashley admitted. "I was thinking either that cute polka dot blouse I got in that sale last week or that silvery blue top that's been sitting in my closet forever."

"I can't remember that one," Belle admitted. "Send me pictures and I will help you pick something out," she promised. The bell rang in the shop and Ashley tried to hide her blushing as Sean entered.

"Morning, Sean," Belle greeted when Ashley said nothing. "What do you think of _If You Give A Mouse A Cookie _for today's Storybook Hour?"

Sean had a serious look on his face. Something was wrong. Belle could tell. Oh, hell, she hoped he wasn't going to back out of the date with Ashley! That would make things more awkward than necessary.

"We're in trouble," he said ominously.

* * *

**Next chapter: Cora and the Nanny make an appearance and Belle and Gold meet for the very first time.**


End file.
